


an anthology of our miraculous future

by molotovhappyhour



Series: An Anthology of Our Anthologies [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Novelist AU, M/M, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 13:33:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5587873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/molotovhappyhour/pseuds/molotovhappyhour
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Levi wonders what Eren sees when he looks at him. And then he wishes Eren was close enough to ask. After all, what good is New Year's Eve when your boyfriend is too far away to kiss?</p>
            </blockquote>





	an anthology of our miraculous future

**Author's Note:**

> happy new year everyone!

(Eren had been embarrassed the first time that they’d met. He’d swatted at Hanji, his face glowing a deep red colour under the brown of his skin, apparent even in the dimness of Levi’s bar. He’d been unable to meet Levi’s eyes, unable to sit still, but entirely able to speak.

“ _stop calling me a genius,”_ he’d said as Hanji made another attempt to ruffle his hair. “ _it’s fucking embarrassing._ ”

He’d been fidgeting with his hands the entire time, often revealing the stamp on his hand indicating him to be younger than legal drinking age.

Levi doesn’t know which part he’d found the most endearing.)

He considers himself to be a patient man. He’s grown out of the nervous shifting that came with waiting in lines at banks and department stores. He’s stopped checking his watch every fifteen minutes, waiting for closing time at the bar so he could go home. Shit, he’s even stopped checking and rechecking shipment dates on online packages. If it gets to his—their—doorstep, then that’s good enough.

But _this_ is killing him.

“You know, since Eren met you, his work has only gotten better,” Hanji says from their place in the almost-too-luxurious armchair. “It’s pretty incredible. I mean, it was _excellent_ before, obviously, because he was doing so well, but, like, he was a kid who was in love with the idea of being in love. The idea of being... meant for someone, in the vastness of the universe.”

Levi grunts in the hopes that they won’t continue. But, as is often the case, his hint goes unnoticed, and they proceed as if he hadn’t made any noise at all, an addendum to the muted television, showcasing  the New Year’s Eve festivities going on by the Space Needle in the city.

“But when he met _you_ , everything slotted into place. As if he’d finally discovered what it felt like to feel the—what is it that he’d written before, hm...” They pull out their phone, apparently checking to see what, exactly, Eren _had_ written before, and Levi considers smothering himself with one of the throw pillow to either his right or his left. Options.

Who reschedules a _fucking_ convention around _New Year’s Eve_? Godless shitlords, that’s who.

(It’s their first anniversary. It’s their _first_.)

“Here’s what he said! Well, wrote. In the most recent piece, actually.” Levi reconsiders his pillow options, his chest tightening around the yawning space where Eren would be if he weren’t overseas right now. But Hanji clears their throat, and there is definitely a part of him that wants to know what Eren had written; what, specifically, Hanji is so sure is about _him_. “Okay, so, it seems like Eren is finally experiencing ‘the inexplicable gravitational pull toward the center of the universe, where a person waits with open arms to wrap him in the tapestry of the stars.’”

When Levi allows his eyes to rise from the carpet beneath the coffee table, he finds Hanji peering at him over the rims of their glasses, their eyes sparkling as they measure Levi’s reaction. If his throat weren’t so uncooperative right now, he’s sure that he could say something sharp enough to wipe that look from their face. But as it is, it’s a struggle to breathe through the straw his windpipe as become, and so they sigh, dropping their phone to their chest.

“I’m just trying to help.” They use a finger to push their glasses up their bridge of their nose, smiling a little. “I know you’d rather he was here, so I’m trying to give you sneak peeks at his work. It’s not published yet, so I thought you’d appreciate it.”

Levi swallows, hoping his voice doesn’t crack when he speaks. It would ruin the image he’s going for. “You wouldn’t need to do that if you didn’t send him to London in the fucking first place, would you?”

The sigh they release would deflate anyone else, leaving behind a skinsuit balloon. But it’s them, and so it doesn’t. “It wasn’t _me_ , it was the company. Eren was _just_ as angry as you.” They snort out a soft laugh, curling their toes. “He threatened to quit six times.”

His mouth refuses to acknowledge the fact that he’s still in a mood, pulling upward in a soft, fond smile at the image that brings to mind.

“Yeah,” he says, quietly, looking at his hands. “Sounds like him.”

He can feel Hanji watching him, hears the soft, slow tapping of the top of their phone against their upper lip, and he knows that they’re going to say something else. And, besides, maybe it really isn’t so bad, listening to their stories about Eren and his ridiculous space odysseys. It makes him feel at least a little closer. Levi supposes that’s better than trying not to think about him at all.

Which, of course, is hard to do on an anniversary.

(They’d been at Levi’s bar last year on the same day, the three of them, watching the Space Needle party on all four TVs mounted in different places. When the elevator rose and the fireworks went off, Eren had tugged Levi into a kiss and _instantly_ apologised.

Levi had been so in love as to be breathless with it.

And, to get at least _some_ air back into his lungs, he’d pulled Eren into a kiss in return, this one made of angled heads and parted lips and shaking fingers.

He’d gone weak at the knees.)

“So he’s already written the dedication to his next book,” Hanji tells him, finally speaking after thinking over their words for longer than Levi had thought they would. “If you want to hear that too.”

Levi shifts on the sofa to lay down, tucking his hands inside the sleeves of one of Eren’s jackets, and tries not to miss him too much.

(Tough shit, that one.)

With his failure comes a sigh. “Sure. Let’s see what he’s got in him.”

Hanji smiles wide and, for the first time since Levi had met Eren a year and a half ago, he’s nervous about what Eren has to say to the world. Eren has poetry in him, deep within his bones, and it makes Levi wonder what Eren sees when he looks at him.

Hanji settles against the armchair, their phone held in front of their face. “Okay, so, here’s how it starts. ‘When I was little, I was in love with the stars.’” They pause just long enough to make sure they have Levi’s attention before adjusting their glasses and continuing. “‘I thought that was good enough when I started writing, but when you’re writing a love story, loving the stars just doesn’t seem to cut it in the way that loving a person does. And when I tried out college, for a while, I learned that stars are basically the progenitors of life. Which basically means that people are made of stars.’”

They pause again and Levi finds himself staring at the ceiling and wishing he could see the stars.

“And then he changes paragraphs and he says, ‘I took it as fact because, hello, college, but I didn’t see it as a piece of truth in the world around me until I met someone who made me believe that people are really stars given flesh. So, Levi, this stupid book is for you. I didn't realise that loving the stars was just a placeholder for the universe that you are.’ And then there’s another paragraph change and he says, ‘further thanks to my editor, Hanji, who refuses to let me talk shit about these until after they're published, thanks to Connie and Sasha for their brilliant artwork and comic series,’ et cetera, et cetera, but that’s the dedication.”

When Levi tries to inhale next, it sounds like a wheeze, as if hands had curled around his lungs and squeezed.

(“ _how the fuck am i supposed to make people love space?_ ” Eren always asks when the words don’t come to him like he wants them to, his face pressed to one of the throw pillows as he whines. “ _how do i make people care about romance in space? i should never have done this to myself.”_

But Levi gets it now. He absolutely gets it.

 _That’s how_ , he tells himself. _That’s how you get people to love the stars._ )

Hanji gives him a moment, and then two, before they speak again. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he replies, clearing his throat, hating the fact that he knows that fucking dedication and savouring it with every part of him in equal measure. _God_ he misses Eren right about now. “Yeah, I’m fine. He’s just _stupid_ talented.”

Hanji hums, tunelessly but with pride. “Yeah. He is. You’re probably stupid proud of him.”

“Yeah. Disgusting.”

Hanji’s laughter almost muffles the sound of the doorbell, but when it rings again the room is still with silence, the both of them frozen in their respective places. It’s the third ring that has Levi up and moving, with Hanji on his heels, as he grumbles his way to the front door. Hanji is about all he can handle when he’s morose, and he’s not really in the mood to see any of Eren’s friends just to be reminded of the fact that _Eren_ isn’t here—

He pulls the door open.

And Eren smiles at him—wide and bright and beautiful.

And Levi wonders if he’ll ever stop getting weak at the knees.

-

(When Eren looks at him, he sees the universe.)

Levi stands in their doorway—one of Eren’s jackets from his brief stint in college draped around his body— blinking slowly before tapping the heel of his hand against one of his temples twice. The gesture makes Eren a little nervous and he wonders if maybe he should’ve said something to Levi beforehand. But it would’ve ruined he surprise. This was supposed to be _special_.

But his brain is still in GMT and, of course, there’s always the possibility that he was late, there’s always the possibility that he _missed_ the fucking New Year’s kiss that he’d been dreaming about since he landed overseas, and that would be reason enough for Levi to be cross with him. Shit, Eren’s cross with _himself_ , if that’s the case. He should’ve planned this better. But he could _swear_ that he’s still got time. He’d bet every cent of revenue from here out on it.

“I’m... not late, right?” Eren speaks first, since it looks like Levi won’t be speaking, much less moving from the doorway, though Hanji is hovering behind him, almost trembling with excited energy. “Like, I have ten minutes before New Year’s, right? I’ve outflown it so much today that I don’t _actually_ know for sure.”

(“ _connie and sasha agreed to take your place on the ‘space author’ panel,”_ Hanji had told him yesterday. “ _you know, since they’re doing the spinoff of your work, and all, we figured it’d be similar enough that the convention wouldn’t mind._ ”

Eren had almost cried.

And then he’d called Connie to grovel his thanks, because that’s polite when your friends save your anniversary.)

“I should go,” Hanji says, pointedly, when Levi still doesn’t speak. They grab their coat from one of the hooks on the wall, shrugging it on over their shoulders. “I’ve got work to do, you know, more of your opus to look over, drinks to have. If I leave now, I can meet Mike and Nile at a bar down the street.”

Eren can’t express how grateful he is that he’s even standing in Seattle right now, much less on his own fucking porch, and so he feels that kicking Hanji out about ten minutes to countdown is rude. Untenable. Unforgivable.

“You don’t have to go,” Eren tells them, rubbing warmth into his hands.

This pulls Levi from his silence, a frown tugging at his mouth.

“Yes, they do,” Levi says at the same time Hanji goes, “Yes, I do.”

And the silence is officially broken. Hanji babbles their way out the front door as Levi pulls Eren inside, his dufflebag bouncing against his backside as he almost stumbles, toeing off his shoes to regain balance. Levi shuts the door on Hanji’s enthusiastic goodbye, though not without giving a farewell of his own, and then the apartment is filled with the thudding of his bag against the floor and the rustle of fabric as Levi pushes Eren’s coat from his shoulders.

“Uh, Levi?”

For a moment it’s back to silence and Eren’s nerves crawl their way back up his throat, threatening to choke him, before Levi takes his face in both his hands (and they’re _warm_ ), kissing him soundly. With his hands, Levi tilts Eren’s head to make their mouths slot together perfectly, drawing his tongue over the seam of his lips. Eren takes a step back, opening his mouth to meet Levi’s tongue, and he goes pliant beneath Levi’s hands, which have shifted from his face to pull a path over his shirt and down his chest.

The kiss ends as suddenly as it had started, Eren just as breathless as he had been before, though the nerves have given way beneath a rush of adoration so strong that it takes a monstrous effort to keep his head above water.

(Kissing Levi is like coming face to face with the miracle of creation, and it makes his chest feel as if it’s caving in.)

Levi’s fingers tremble, just a little, as his hands come up to pinch at both of Eren’s cheeks, and _pull_.

“ _Ow_ , Levi!” His words are distorted by the stretching of his skin, but they make sense enough. “What’s this for?”

“Making sure you’re actually here.” He lets go to press another gentle kiss to Eren’s mouth, even as Eren lifts a hand of his own to cup Levi’s face. The sting of his cheeks fades when Levi’s lips ghost over them in even more kisses.

“Surprise,” Eren sings softly against his lips. “Happy anniversary.”

“Can’t believe you fucking got here. Who’d you have to throttle? Threaten? Did you just cut and run?” Levi’s nose is the only cold part of him as he nuzzles the side of Eren’s face, his eyelashes tickling his cheek when he blinks.

Eren holds him close, still resting his weight on the wall beside the coat hooks. “Found someone to replace me. Young writers are a dime a dozen.”

“You’re full of shit. Fucking irreplaceable, you,” Levi mumbles, pulling out of the circle of Eren’s arms to tug him toward the couch, the Space Needle celebration already on TV, muted, and ready to go.

Levi sits first only to pull Eren with him, wedging him between the armrest and Levi’s own body as he curls up against his side, tucking his body under Eren’s arm with a satisfied hum. Eren tips against him, rubbing his face against Levi’s hair with a sigh that exhales the jetlag from his bones, dropping it to the floor like a piece of discarded clothing.

And to think he’d almost _missed_ this.

“Missed you,” Eren whispers against Levi’s hair.

“Missed _you_ ,” Levi replies, picking up the remote from where it was wedged into the sofa cushions, unmuting the television as the countdown threatens to begin. “I can’t fucking believe you even _got_ here. Didn’t think I’d get a kiss until the third.”

“And make you wait?” Eren asks, even as he feels himself recoil at the thought of _not_ getting the most important kiss of the year from Levi on the second most important _day_ of the year. “Never.” He leaves a series of lingering kisses against Levi’s hair, moving to pepper them on his face when he tilts his head up for a proper kiss. “I’ve got an anniversary present for you in the bedroom, if you’ll give me a second.”

“No.” Levi tilts his head up to kiss one of Eren’s eyebrows, frowning. “It can wait until after the countdown. You only have a _minute_ anyway, and I need to give you yours.” Levi’s eyes shine like stardust, sharpening as he watches Eren’s face. “We have to start the year right. Kiss first, anniversary gifts later.”

Eren would laugh if Levi’s mouth didn’t look so perfect, if his eyes weren’t so fucking beautiful, if he didn’t think of a million different lines for a thousand different chapters every time they made eye contact. But Levi is all those things, perfect enough to fill countless books with praises and too perfect for words, all at once.

And so when the countdown finally does happen, it’s just a blur that leads to the kiss that brings stars to life against the backs of his eyelids, laughter forgotten for the taste of Levi’s lips.

Eren relearns the contours of Levi’s mouth, gets a refresher on how it feels to have Levi kiss him blind, gets further instruction on the way to get Levi to make _that_ sound more often than not. Levi's fingers find his hair and stay there, their bodies shifting toward each other without consultation from the brain. They’re guided by gravity, by the energy of stars.

“I really fucking love you,” Eren smears the words against the side of Levi’s face, savouring the shaky sigh Levi breathes close to his ear.

“I really fucking love you too,” Levi whispers back, tugging at Eren’s hair gently. “Happy New Year.”

The living room pops with the sound of fireworks, scattering from the television in waves.

“Happy New Year,” Eren replies, pulling Levi in for another kiss.

(When they kiss like this, when they love like this, Eren feels like he knows the secrets of the universe. Whispers them against Levi’s pulse. Feels them vibrate in the shivers down Levi’s spine.

And he wants to start every year this way for the rest of his life, he thinks.)  


End file.
